


Don't worry, I'm okay // Markson

by xRenx



Category: GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bullying, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, GOT7 - Freeform, High School, Jackson wang - Freeform, Letter, Love, M/M, Mark Tuan - Freeform, Romance, Self-Harm, Starvation, got7 angst, markson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-12 19:36:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRenx/pseuds/xRenx
Summary: "Are you okay Jackie?""Yes."That was my answer every time someone asked that, no matter how harshly my reflection stared at me from the mirror or how I got paler and paler every day, soon staring at something  that was far from being me ~ Jackson





	1. Un

**Author's Note:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered!

Usually people say going down is much easier than climbing up, because you don't have to try so much. But I don't think so. Whether it's the icy road to the nearest convenience store, or your reputation and confidence and the life itself, it's harder to go down and lose everything. On an icy road, you're most likely gonna slip and maybe sprain your ankle. In life, you lose your friends and you fall to the bottom. In either case, you're gonna get hurt, physically and mentally. It's much easier and nicer to climb back up, because you know you're gonna be home soon, or the things are getting better, even if it would take long. Don't they always say the way home is shorter?

Because when you fall, you fall very hard and you know you've just lost all the things you've worked so hard for, and climbed all those hills up for. Then all you've ever done has come crashing down, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, but collect all the broken pieces you can find, and start taping them together, climb back up and hope that you wouldn't fall again. It's a rollercoaster with lots of ups and downs, just like my life. Except that I feel like I can't even get fully back up, when I already fall again.

\---------------------

Pale skin, round face, chubby cheeks, small dark eyes that almost shut when laughing. Dark short hair that was messy after sleep, and shortish, scrawny frame covered in grey sweatpants and black tank top, stared back at me from the mirror in our small bathroom. The sight, that I absolutely disgraced.

I eyed myself from the mirror with disgusted smirk. I raised my hand, and slapped. Red handmark started to appear to my right cheek quickly. I lifted my other hand up as well, and hit again, and again, and again, and again, till my eyes were tearing up and my cheeks were bright red. I sighed and picked my towel up from the floor and turned around to leave. I walked to the door, but before I could open it, I slipped and fell to my side to the ceramic tile floor with a loud thud. I yelped loudly as my head hit the sharp wooden door frame. Fucking conditioner bottle. I cursed in my mind, when I helped myself up from the floor.

"Jackie, are you alright?" Familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door. I groaned and opened the door, facing a worried looking Mark in the corridor.

"Yeah, Im completely fine", I sighed and started my walk towards the bedroom.

"Hey hey hey, don't go anywhere! You have a cut on the corner of your eye, that has to be cleaned", Mark said taking a hold of my hand and dragging me to the kitchen downstairs.

He ordered me to sit down on one of the bar chairs, as he went to get the first-aid kit. He cleaned the wound and put a butterfly plaster on it.

"Okay princess, go get dressed or youll be late from school!" I sighed for the umpteenth time and scuffed myself upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it'll get more angsty in the next chapters xD also the beginning troubles me a bit because I feel it's too rushed? 
> 
> BUT I'M GLAD IF YOU ENJOYED


	2. Deux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered!

It was 11:45, still 15 minutes till lunch break. I was looking out of the window and played with my pen with my fingers. I snapped out of my thoughts only just when the bell rang as the sign of the break. I waited till everyone had left the class, until I collected my notebook(which was decorated with beautiful patterns), books and pencils and exited the class. Although I didn't get far, before I was already pushed into one niche and a bucketful of ice-cold muddywater was thrown at me. I pretended to be intereseted about my toes and looked down, as the water dropped from my clothes to the floor and created a growing dirt-coloured puddle next to them. I didn't want to lift my gaze up because I knew from the laughs, who were standing in front of me. 

"Well hello Jackie." I sighed and threw my backpack to the side. At leat nothing would happen to my schoolbooks apart from them getting wet, and I could maybe curb down the quantity of my detentions. 

"Arent you going to resist at all?" The same hoarse and low voice asked. I shook my head and threw my hoodie off just to be sure that nothing would happen to it. 

I closed my eyes from the first punch. I counted the punches till 10, as always, but after that it was actually indifferent to me. It would hurt anyways. I bent down so that I could even somehow protect myself from the punches and try to breath. But of course, it was an useless wish. My head was hit to the wall and I fell down to the floor, curling myself as small as I could and hoping, that I could just disappear.

\----------------------

I didn't know how much time had passed, but I knew, that my lesson had started long ago. I got up from the muddy water-puddle - where may have been a tinge of blood too - that had formed to the floor, and grabbed the closest bar hoping to be able to stand with my wobbly legs that almost gave in as I stood straight. 

Okay, only few steps to the backpack, then few steps to the staircase, about 25 steps up to the third floor and five long leaps to the classroom, maybe I will survive.  
After all I ended up using 15 minutes and many short and wobbly steps from the second floor's C-swing's back niche to the third floor's C-swing and in front of my class. I fumbled to the door, and knocked lightly. I leaned against the doorframe as sudden wave of dizziness swept over me. The door creaked as it opened before me, but I didn't see almost anything because of the black dots that were now covering my sight.

I tried to fake a smile, but the person who opened the door looked at me with so worried face, that I'm afraid I failed. I had pulled my hoodie on to hide the ripped t-shirt, but I had totally forgotten, that I was soaking wet. I said soundlessly to the person in front of me, that I was alright, walking into the class, staggering to the closest desk and grabbed a hold of it, so that I would get to my place without falling. Black dots were now covering almost my whole eyesight, and everything was blurry.

"Jackson, is everything okay?" The teacher's mellow voice asked, but I couldn't answer, before darkness came over me and I fell for the third time today. I didn't hit the cold floor as I had expected, but instead felt warm hands catch me.

After that, I felt nothing.


	3. Trois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered

I snapped awake to the sound of two voices having a conversation next to me. I opened my eyes slightly and after few blinks, saw the headmaster talking with the school nurse. I sat up slowly and grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand, because my throat felt as dry as a desert. I picked up the glass, but apparently my hand wasn't strong enough, because the glass fell crashing to the floor. The headmaster and the nurse both turned their heads to me with worry written all over their faces. What's wrong with everyone looking at me with worried faces today? I mumbled a silent sorry, and began to collect my stuff from the nightstand to my backpack with trembling hands.

"Hey hey Jackson, dont go anywhere!" the nurse said walking to my bed, making me sit up against the wall.

"Jackson, is everything okay?" I laughed.

 _Why does everybody have to question it, Im completely fine_.

"Yeah everything's fine, I just fell on the stairs. Can I leave now?" I blurted.

"Jackson we're worried about you, this isn't the first time you've "fallen on the stairs"." It was now the headmaster's time to speak up. I looked away from them.

_Of course it wasn't the first time, more like the highlight of each week._

I sighed: "Well I just happen to be a bit clumsy, I'm just fine. I should hurry to my class, shouldn't I? So, can I go now?" The headmaster and the nurse glanced at each other, and after a bit, nodded.

"Okay, but come to tell us immediately, if everything's not okay."

\-----------------------------

I leaned on the back of my bed and looked at the black screen in front of me frustrated.

_Come tell us immediately, if everything's not okay._

The words of the headmaster had been playing in my head for the past frew days. Like I would tell them anything. Even Mark didn't know, and I was going to keep it that way.

I snapped out of my thoughts, as the laptops screen turned on, and I saw Mark's icon in the middle of it. I quickly glanced at myself from the mirror next to the bed, and checked that my make up was covering most of the cuts and bruises, before I answered the call with a smile. Mark's cheerful voice was heard from somewhere far, until he appeared in front of the camera with a small fluffy creature. This small grey fluffball was apparently Mark's new cat, Newton, which was going to move with us.

"A cat huh? Did you think that theres two of us living in this house?" Mark pouted as he glanced at the now sleeping creature on his lap.

"Would it really bother you a lot?" He asked still pouting.

I thought about it for a moment before I started laughing. Mark looked at me with very confused face from the other side of the screen.

"Of course not, silly", I laughed and smirked, when I saw Mark's eyes lighting up again.

We chatted for at least an hour, before I looked at the clock, and saw that it was already 23:47. I would still have to drag myself to school tomorrow, so I would better end the call. Mark bid a goodbye with his classic flying kiss and good night wish from Newton, before the screen went black. I burrowed myself deeper under my blanket and laid my head down.

The room felt so empty without the other person breathing and mumbling in his sleep next to me. Without the other, who is the most important person in the world to me, and who I couldn't live without, and who is currently on the other side of the globe fully unaware of the thoughts that raced from their favour inside my head. I caressed the silky sheets next to me and tried to get my thoughts to shut up.

_Idiot, Mark's not really interested, he didn't even ask where all your cuts and bruises came from, he doesn't care about you!_

"Shut up! Of course he didn't notice them because I've covered them with make-up", I mumbled out-loud.

_Ugly, fat, stupid, childish! Why would anyone love you?!_

I pulled my blanket to the side and looked at my body. My eyes were burning, and one single tear drop rolled down my cheek.

_You can't do anything, you just do everything wrong! Why would you still be here otherwise? You're a coward and can't even press the knife hard enough to kill yourself!_

"STOP!" I shouted so loud, that I was sure even the neighbours heard it.

The voice didn't stop though but continued creating those slimy thoughts inside my head. I threw my blanket to the floor and rushed to the bathroom. I turned the shower ice cold and stepped under it, shivering from cold, clothes glued to my skin. I just wanted the voice to stop, but it didn't. I got out of the shower and stepped in front of the mirror soaking wet. I looked like a dipped rat. I grabbed my towel from the hanger, threw the wet clothes on the floor, and wrapped the grey terry cloth around my skinny frame. I opened the drawer next to the sink, and put my hand to the back of it, searching for the oh-so-familiar blade. Soon my fingers made contact with the cold metal, and I pulled a small kitchen knife from the drawer. My eyes were glistening from the tears I tried to hold back. The voice inside my head was screaming like a siren, and I just wanted to hit my head on the wall to make it stop.

My skin was tingling from the touch of the shining blade, that was racing across my skin, leaving thin lines behind. 1, 2, 3, 4... All the way to 12. I sighed, when the screams between my ears started to fade away. I counted to 12 again, till all the screams were gone, replaced by silence. I leaned on the cold tile wall and slumped down to the floor. Small, red droplets ran down my hand and leg, forming two small puddles next to me. Two small and meaningless, yet still so meaningful words were now written on my pale skin due to anxiety. I took the knife, that I had dropped on the floor, and started counting again. This time not forming words, but leaving disgustingly beautiful lines to my skin as the evidence of my living in hell. After I had gathered myself from the bathroom floor, I picked up the wet clothes from the floor and cleaned up the small blood-puddles, moving back to my bed.

I started to think about the things the voice in my head had said. I laughed, as I realised, that the voice really was right: _I wasn't brave enough to press the knife hard enough to let myself free from this pain and suffering. Some say that taking your own life is selfish, but they just dont understand how much pain living can make you go through_. As the thoughts were messing up my head, I fell asleep on the city lights that shone brightly through my blinds. Nightmares took the best of me and dragged me with them to the darkness.


	4. Quatre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered!

The sunrise woke me up way before my alarm. I glanced at the grey – trying-to-look-like-a-clock – block next to me, and blinked a few times to get my eyes open, before the digital numbers became clear to me. It was 5:35am and I still wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I would just end up drifting around the school corridors like a zombie again. I gathered myself once again and got up from the comfortable warmth of my bed. I stared at my aching body from the mirror, before I searched the neat black jeans and grey oversized hoodie from my wardrobe, putting them on.

  
I scuffed to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet with shaky hands. Though my hands weren't stable enough, and the glass crashed to the floor, sending shards all over the floor. I fished a palm-sized piece of glass from under the dining table, and as I got it to my hands, my fingers wanted to almost compulsively drag it's sharp edge on my skin. I decided to give in to my desire, and widened the cuts on my insteps, so that when I was done, it looked like I would've had red-beige striped socks on. I threw the shards to the trash-bin and headed to get my backpack from the living room, before hurrying out of the house.

  
\------------------------

  
Walking was one hell, when my shoes rubbed the cuts, and my body had still not recovered from last weeks strikes, If everything will go well, I might be able to be at peace today, but I'm afraid thats an useless wish.

  
Everything went well till lunch, apart from the fact that I almost fell asleep during math lesson, and got many mocking smirks and glances both when I tried to explain to the PE teacher why I couldn't participate, and in health educations class, when we were talking about first-aid. Well, at least those skills (learned in h.e class) wouldnt be useless to anyone in a moment, at least if it was to trust the faces and hand marks coming from a certain group of people.

  
I stayed in class after the lesson, just like I was told to do in a creased post-it paper, because I was too afraid to disobey. I was motioned to the front, and I obeyed. I slowly limped to the front, pain radiating all over my body.

  
One strike, second, third, till I was on my knees on the floor. What surprised me, was that one of them took a knife from his pocket, rolled up my sleeves, and started to draw thin lines, that later formed words, to the inner sides of my hands.

  
_Great, more text to read when I go to shower._

  
 Pearls of tears streamed down my cheeks, forming two small rivers from my lower lashes to my chin, down my neck and under my shirt. I was used to the pain, but when someone else did it, it felt twice as horrible. I was standing on my knees, staring at the white ceiling without making any noise, I didn't want to give them the thought that their actions had some kind of effect on me. Even though they saw my tears, which were probably a sufficient evidence.

  
"Fucking Homo!"

  
"You don't deserve to live! You should just kill yourself, it would be the best for the society!"

  
"Not even your boyfriend loves you, he just pretends to care! Who would love that kind of pathetic child?!"

1  
They shouted so that my ears were ringing. I turned my gaze down and looked at every one of them to the eyes with my own reddened eyes, till I felt a cold and rough object against the back of my head. It moved along my scalp, until it disappeared, and soon reappeared with force. I fell forward and faced the cold tile floor, as white stars covered my eyesight.

  
\-----------------------

  
I was still barely conscious, when I felt strong hands lifting me easily up from my hands and legs. I heard doors opening, as my head swung side to side in the pace of the of the people's steps who carried me. Soon I was placed down on the cold floor, pushed a bit further, and in a bit a door was slammed closed behind me, leaving me alone into the darkness. I curled myself into a ball like a fetus, where-ever I had been taken to, and tried to fall asleep, so that the small but loud mine inside my head would shut down, and the dwarves would leave me alone, taking my headache away. Of course, I doubted the power of sleep, after all I got hit with a piece of pipe or something just moments ago, but I still wanted to try. After a bit of trying, I actually did fall into restless sleep.


	5. Cinq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered!

I didn't know, how long it had been since I had fallen asleep. Not very long, because I heard other students shout from the other side of the close-slammed door. I slowly opened my eyes and let them adjust to the darkness. I was in one of the janitor's closets, at least judging from all the mops and hoses. I got up, pain throbbing in the back of my head. I quickly glanced at my hands, which were covered in dried blood. I rubbed part of the blood away with the help of my own saliva and thumb, covering the rest with my sleeve. I collected my stuff that were brought with me and held my head, as I got up to leave. Nobody would probably even care what had happened to me or was I in class or not.

  
Nobody took interest in the black-haired lonely boy, who had starved himself into a skeleton, and whose life was shattering into small pieces. Into small smidgens, that wind would blow away, and whose missing no one would notice.

  
\--------------------------

  
When I got home, I threw my stuff under the hallway's hanger and walked to the bedroom in front of the big body-sized mirror. I lifted my shirt only a bit at first, but then pulled it fully off, then sliding the black, little bit wet jeans on the floor, exposing even more of my paper-white, red-striped skin. Countless words and patterns drawn to my skin with something much sharper than a pen. Tears streamed down my cheeks like waterfalls and dropped to the floor in front of me. I moved my hand along my ribs, that could almost be played like a guitar. Fat, they said, even though nowadays I looked like a living skeleton, but apparently even that wasn't enough.

  
I washed the rest of the dried blood off of my hands in the bathroom, before I put on my white, bit baggy dress-shirt, the neatest black jeans I could find, and my suit jacket. I settled down in front of my writing desk and took a cream-white paper and a dark red pen – it was Mark's favourite colour – from the drawer. I sighed and started forming words on the paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so short, the following chapters are gonna be really short too, but there's a reason for it.


	6. Six - La Lettre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered!

  
Mark🖤

  
Hey Mark! You weren't probably waiting for this...

  
I'm sorry I couldn't say these things to you face to face.

  
I'm sorry my mouth closed by itself when I tried to talk.

  
I'm sorry about all the pain, that I made you go through, from the small fights, to the moments we were both crying helplessly.

  
I'm sorry, that I couldn't help you, when you would've needed my help.

  
I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to ask for help.

  
I'm sorry, that you have to read this, when I'm not next to you anymore.

  
Just know, that this is not your fault. You couldn't have helped me any more than how much you already did by being there for me

and always loving me with your whole heart. I'm sorry it was too hard for me to stay.

  
Don't blame yourself for what happened no matter what, and absolutely don't miss me.

  
I'm better like this, everyone's better like this.

  
Find yourself a new light of life and keep chasing your dreams! And take care of Newton too!!!

  
From now I'll be your guardian angel and will look after you from a bit further away than before.

  
Don't forget to smile!

  
Life isn't made for being sad, definitely not because of me.

  
Even though I'm physically away, I'll look over you from up there, and will commemorate all our good memories with a smile.

  
I'll never forget you!

  
Jackson🖤

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put this as an individual chapter because I think it's better like this.


	7. Le Final

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not read if you're easily triggered! Death is upon us.

 

I put my pen down and looked at the paper in front of me. The text was partly smudged because of the tears that had fallen from my eyes. I bent the letter in half and slid it into an envelope, which I glued shut before writing Mark's name to the front. I set the envelope gently against the framed photo - of us from Mark's 18th birthday - on the living rooms table, before walking to the bathroom.

  
I opened the cabinet above the mirror and took a small bottle of painkillers and sleeping pills from the lowest shelf. I took seven painkillers and three sleeping pills to my hand, threw them to my mouth and washed them down with some water. I sild down to the floor, sitting against the wall with the same familiar kitchen knife in my hand, that I had used before. I rolled up my sleeves and gently brushed my fingers on the pale skin, shattered by red thin lines, before lifting up the knife. I set the knife against the inner part of my wrist and pressed hard, drawing a beautiful and long horizontal line to it.

  
The pills had already started working, so I only felt a small stinging, as I deepened the now floatingly bleeding cut. My hands were shaking, as my grip loosened, and I dropped the knife. Tears were running down my cheeks like a waterfall again. A small river of blood had formed to the floor, flowing towards the drain.

  
I watched the river of blood with sad eyes, as I lifted up the knife one last time, resting the edge on my chest, it pointing at my heart.

  
_Maybe I could finally stop crying. Maybe I could finally be happy. Maybe I could finally live._

  
_Maybe I could finally go home._

  
Smiling I pushed the knife through the fabric of my shirt, sinking the sharp metal into my flesh straight to my heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed despite this being written by me as a school assignment. I tried to make the letter as sad as I could but I wish I could've expressed my thoughts better.


End file.
